


Bach, "Toccata and Fugue in D Minor"

by musicmillennia



Series: "How many choir directors does it take to change a light bulb?" [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Choir, Alternate Universe - College/University, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-18 12:20:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9384788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/musicmillennia
Summary: Jax has heard many legends surrounding the Music Department of CCU. He's pretty sure most of them aren't true.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prouvairablehulk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prouvairablehulk/gifts).
  * Inspired by [History Will Be Kind To Me (For I Intend To Write It)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7318717) by [prouvairablehulk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prouvairablehulk/pseuds/prouvairablehulk). 



> This is written in celebration of my finally getting to shower my royal ward in real life hugs! (Also because her college au is awesome and if you haven't read it you really really should)
> 
> Btw, the name Caldwell was inspired by RedHead's coldflash neighbors au. Y'all should check 'em out!

When Jax and his team find out that his torn ACL won't let him play football again, it's over in more ways than one.

Graduation parties become stiff and awkward. The coach, once a tough paternal presence, starts getting shifty-eyed whenever Jax tries to stop by. And of course colleges don't want to offer scholarships to someone who can't even run.

So, instead of picking from his top schools, Jax has to settle for a mathematics scholarship at CCU. If there's something besides football he's good at, it's numbers. Especially when they apply to mechanics. But his mom can't afford engineering school, which is fine.

At this point, the fact that he's still going to college is enough for him.

Central City University is right in the city proper. The buildings are crammed around a few patches of green among the urban noise. It's known for its math program, which, given Jax's new place in life, bodes well. Only problem is, you need at least one extracurricular, and Jax has no idea what he could possibly do that doesn't have to do with sports.

When he meets his adviser at orientation, Jax tells him as much.

Professor Stein's not so bad, as far as first impressions go. He doesn't show pity for Jax about the torn ACL, but admiration at Jax's determination to go through college anyway, and with what he calls "such a prestigious subject." (Dude likes numbers and science way more than Jax does.) He merely nods at Jax's admission and turns to his laptop, undoubtedly already looking for a solution.

Jax thinks he can come to like this guy.

"There  _is_ one department I can think of that would be happy to have a male addition," Stein ventures after a minute. "I'm told it runs on a similar schedule and discipline as a sports team. And the college does pride itself on it."

Jax almost thinks he's talking about some math club.

"Tell me, Jefferson: can you sing?"

Yeah. Wasn't expecting that.

"Uh. My mom says I can," comes out of his mouth before he can stop it.

"Good enough! We can sign you up for one of the introductory courses, get you acquainted with the choir director. If singing isn't your forte," (he smiles to himself and Jax can't  _not_ roll his eyes a little) "then we have a band and orchestra that are never shy of taking beginners."

"I can play the guitar?" Jax offers.

"Excellent! We also have a jazz band, so at least you can have a back up plan."

Back up plans are nice.

"It looks like a freshman-only choir fits right into your schedule."

"Great," Jax says. "So it counts as a credit too?"

"Yes. We still count it as an extracurricular, mostly due to the Department Chair's insistence and the ensembles' hours overlapping with so many other clubs."

Right now, Jax would love to be busy with a team, even if it's a choir singin' Hallelujah.

"The Chairman is also the choir director," Stein continues, "Dr. Snart. I will tell you that he does take some...getting used to. He's far more strict than any choir director you've probably met."

Jax can handle strict. "No problem."

Stein still looks a little doubtful. "Again, you have a solid second choice. And this choir doesn't need an audition process."

Thank God.

 

Jax has choir Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday at 1:30 to 2:45.

On Monday, he starts hearing things.

Turns out the Music Department has quite a few legends surrounding it.

In his Biology class, they do an ice breaker that involves telling everyone something they're doing different in college. When Jax said he was doing choir, one kid leaned over during the lecture and whispered, "So is it true that Dr. Snart made the Dean cry?"

By the end of the lecture, Jax has resolved to tell everyone in his next class that he's in choir just to hear more stories.

Choir, Orchestra, and Band are all known for something. Orchestra's where the stoners are; Band is a cult; and Choir is...well, nobody really knows what to say about Choir other than it belongs to Dr. Leonard Snart and that's that.

Apparently the band director, Dr. Sara Lance, studied at some super secret private school before coming to work at CCU. She knows how to play every instrument in existence. Her muscles are brick houses hiding in a small frame. Some say that shady school she was at made students do strenuous physical activity while practicing an instrument, and she never fell out of the habit.

The orchestra director, Professor "HR" Wells, is the most laid back guy you'll ever meet. Jax hears many tales about the orchestra room: beanbags, fairy lights, motivational and nerdy posters, chairs with blankets on them, stands painted bright colors, etc., etc. HR's always smiling, always peppy. He's an absolute dork and loves to promote zen and "unity with the strings."

(His twin brother, Dr. "Harry" Wells, is a cold son of a bitch physics professor, and if you do actually call him Harry and you're not part of his Physics Team, legend has it you'll come out of his class shaking and muttering about the unknown particles of the universe.)

As for the choir itself, it's actually choir _s_ : freshman class, which Jax will be attending; chamber choir, where alumni and even professors join a few students two nights a week; and finally, Snart's pride and joy, the Caldwell Singers.

Students call the Caldwells a different name though: Cold's Choir. This is on account of Snart's cold demeanor and the discipline with which he runs every choir, but also because the Caldwells are undoubtedly his favorite. It's made up of all students, and its auditions are super exclusive and challenging. Somehow, Snart's gotten the funding to take his Caldwells all around the world as well as different states for competitions, and their awards are proudly displayed in a trophy case in the music department.

Which brings Jax to the man of the hour.

Dr. Snart has so much hype around him that Jax just knows the real thing can't possibly live up to it. He manages to parse through the gibberish to get some basic facts: he directs all the choirs, is in his forties, has a sister, and is married. The last of which has, if anything, twice as much speculation, given Dr. Snart's open pansexuality and all the possibilities thereof.

But seriously. Jax is pretty sure Dr. Snart didn't literally twist the Dean's ear and made CCU's President bow his head for more funding in the Performing Arts Department. Or blew up one of the labs to set an example for the choir's needing a real rehearsal room and not just whatever they can find. Or made a parent cry when they dared to complain about the rehearsal hours.

Or, and this is Jax's personal favorite: smash a Lincoln Continental into the orchestra department because HR was being particularly annoying.

That doesn't even cover the stories of Dr. Snart and his interactions with his fellow CCU faculty. According to pretty much everyone, Dr. Palmer has a huge arsenal when it comes to that. For whatever reason, he seems to be Dr. Snart's main target.

Honestly, Jax is just waiting to be disappointed.

 

Tuesday, 1:20 PM. Jax walks down the steps of one of the cheapest and oldest buildings on campus, all the way down to the bottom floor. One of the lights is on the fritz right by the stairwell, and everything smells like bleach, somehow moreso than the public bathrooms.

Strings are warming up somewhere. Muffled, but Jax thinks they sound like they know what they're doing, not stoned out of their minds. He heads down the hall, looking at each room number.

007...006...005...there it is: Gardner 004.

It's  _freezing_ in there.

Once Jax's teeth stop clacking, he takes a seat in one of the many black chairs and takes a look around. It's way cleaner than the hallway, and instead of bleach, everything smells faintly like peppermint. It looks like a refurbished lecture room with a mini black amphitheater whose first row Jax is sitting in shoved between the walls: green chalkboard spanning the wall, a neatly ordered desk shoved to the side to make room for a piano in the forefront, and dull fluorescent lights. The windows are small rectangles set high in the ceiling, reaching desperately for a flicker of sunshine to give the basement room. The wood flooring is way nicer than the industrial tiles in the hall, albeit scratched from use, and the walls are painted an unobtrusive blue.

Behind the choir stands are tables covered with crisp stacked music and empty black folders. The only wall decorations are the schedules tacked above them and one small Star Wars poster hanging above the light switch next to the door that features a minimalist version of Degobah, with Yoda waving at Luke's X-wing.

If not for the frightened students, Jax would say the room's actually pretty sweet. Definitely more business than personal, but sweet.

Shame there's no clock though.

Jax makes a note of the office hours written on the top right corner of the board in legible cursive. He's definitely not available often, but he promises that all emails will be answered within 24 hours, so that's something. He's not sure why he'd visit Dr. Snart outside of class, but Jax's mom didn't raise an unprepared son.

That done, he turns to his classmates.

Yeah, no, this definitely isn't just newbie jitters. These people are  _terrified_.

Jax checks his watch. 1:24.

"So, uh―sorry," he says when a couple people jump, "I was just, y'know, sayin' hi. I haven't done choir since like, elementary school."

"I wanted to do it as part of my major," one girl says, "but I've heard so much stuff about this guy."

Jax smiles. "Yeah, but, come on. Not all of those stories can be true, right?"

"He can and will kick you out if you show up five seconds late," one student whispers. "And once you're out, you're  _out_. Not even an administrator can get you another chance!"

"I just needed something for my art requirement," another guy murmurs. "That's all I needed. I didn't think it'd be like  _this_."

Jax blinks. "Class hasn't even started yet."

"But it's class with  _Dr. Snart_ ," says the music major.

"Okay, but―"

The door casually opens. Everyone sits ramrod straight and silent, wide eyes fixing on the newcomer.

As Jax expected, Dr. Snart looks like a regular guy. His clothes are easily more expensive-looking than any other professor Jax has seen thus far, this one being a dark navy waistcoat and dress pants that look almost black in the dim lighting, with a smooth silk tie over a white button-up. His salt-and-pepper widow's peak looks like it was dyed with a little more pepper recently (Jax's mom worked in a beauty salon; he knows what it looks like no matter how good the work), making the sharp hazel of his eyes jump out of his rectangular wire-framed glasses.

He deposits his long black coat from his arm to a hook near the Star Wars poster. Walks to his desk, sets a dark brown leather bag on his chair. Walks around to the piano, cocks his hip on the side, crosses his arms.

And stares.

Jax kinda gets where the fear factor comes from now.

Dr. Snart glances at his black wristwatch. His sleeves are rolled to the elbow, his arms looking paler against the white. There are some old scars there.

Jax tries his best not to fidget. Everyone else maintains the silence.

When he finally speaks, Dr. Snart's voice sounds like a whip cracking through the room, slightly nasal and very intimidating: "There should be fourteen of you."

Jax dares to glance in his periphery. There are only nine students here, including him.

After another tense eternity, Dr. Snart shrugs in one quick movement. "I don't have time for drop-outs. Let's get started."

He earns some respect points when he takes role. Not only does he ask about nicknames and pronunciation, he also asks for pronouns just as casually. Jax can definitely do a strict-but-fair type.

Once that's settled, Dr. Snart shuts his role book with a snap and slides it back to its place on his desk. As he returns to the piano, he says, "Tell me your voice parts. You start."

He points to the music major. She squeaks out "Soprano 1." The next girl says Soprano 2, and so on and so forth, until it's determined that there are three Soprano 1s, one Soprano 2, three Alto 1s, and one Bass 2.

Dr. Snart looks at Jax. Jax gulps.

"I―don't actually know?"

His classmates look like they're about to witness a murder, clutching the edges of their seats and flinching heavily as Dr. Snart's Oxfords slowly clack behind the piano.

"That's fine," Dr. Snart replies, "I'm doing a check anyway. You'll be first then."

He crooks one of his long fingers, already looking at a piece of music in front of him. Jax really, really hopes he's not about to get a pop quiz on a bar of Beethoven or somethin'.

Thankfully, all he does is go through some scales. Dr. Snart doesn't miss a single note, playing with an easy confidence. He deems Jax a flexible Tenor 2/Bass 1 with a congratulations tacked on that sounds too much like snark to be genuine.

It's kinda silly, but Jax almost bows when he's dismissed back to his seat.

"Everyone else line up," Dr. Snart orders.

One Alto 2 is put up to 1 and the Bass 2 is actually Tenor 1. One of the Soprano 1s can't even match a pitch. Jax swears he sees Dr. Snart wrinkle his nose at her, but he merely says they'll work on it instead of kicking her out.

"There's a table behind you that's labelled with your class," he says afterwards, "find your music, pick a folder. You lose your folder, you pay for it. You lose your music, there will be consequences."

Jax doesn't like the drop in his voice there.

They get three sheets of music, all by some guy named Stephen Foster. To the left of the tables is a cubby full of black folders labelled CALDWELLS. The freshman class gets sleek baby blue ones, worn but in good condition.

As soon as everyone's back in their seats, Dr. Snart says, "Dress code and concert dates are on the class website. If I make any edits to the music we'll be doing, they will be under your class folder. Write them down. If you want to get in touch with me otherwise, email me. I respond within 24 hours, so long as you do so before ten o'clock at night. Office hours are up on the board. Any questions?"

Nervous head shakes.

Snart nods. "That's all there is to our syllabus." He stands, returning to the front of the piano. "Now for the rules. I only have three, so pay attention."

Jax has never heard that much severity from a professor before, not even from his former coach. Snart even narrows his eyes, as if someone's already broken one of his rules.

He ticks off on his fingers, starting with his thumb: "Number one: be on time. We start at 1:30 on the dot, no exceptions. If you are more than five minutes late, your participation grade goes down by 15%. I'm not screwin' around, and you won't be either.

"Number two: come prepared. You don't have your music, you are dismissed and counted as absent for the day. The consequences I mentioned earlier for losing your music is buying another copy from me and another dock from participation. This one, however, will be 50%."

One student makes a faint whimpering noise. He's silenced by Snart's sharp look.

"I don't wanna waste my time with people who don't care. We are here to work, and if you impede that work, you get punished accordingly. You're not in high school anymore. Either take responsibility or drop the class.

"Finally, number three: this class meets three days a week, and you're freshmen, so I'll be lenient on you. You have three unexcused absences. Any more than that, you fail the course, no exceptions."

He asks again: "Any questions?"

Another bout of head shakes.

"Who's taking this because of the extra-curricular requirement?"

The class stares wide-eyed at each other. Jax knows for a fact that at least one other kid is doing that with him, but nobody raises their hand.

Summoning his courage, Jax does it.

Snart zeroes in on him.

He says, "Hopefully your opinion will change, Jax."

And that's it.

"I'm certain there are more of you, but since you don't have the guts to speak up, that's your problem. Thank you, Jax, for being honest."

Jax nods. "Yeah, uh. No problem."

"Let's get started. We'll warm up first, then get into the music. The work I've given you is by Stephen Foster. Simple harmonies with rhythm practice." His smirk barely touches the corners of his lips, but it's unnerving all the same. "Let's see what you know."

Snart goes back to his throne. He reorders the students by voice part with a quick hand and assigns Jax to Bass 1 for the class.

He takes them through a few exercises, singing what he wants them to imitate. Being a college-level choir director, Jax assumed he'd be decent at singing, but Snart's actually more than decent. Which is  _really_ refreshing, considering every other director Jax has met was surprisingly terrible. Oh, the irony.

And so it goes. Jax isn't too solid when it comes to singing in a choir though. But when he finally raises his hand and asks Dr. Snart to replay a few measures, Snart patiently does so without comment. That gives other students the courage to do the same, until they're all solid and...actually sounding kind of amazing?

It's so weird. The students all glance at each other in wonder even as they keep singing Gentle Annie. The Soprano 1 who couldn't hit a pitch has been miraculously whipped into shape due to some clever maneuvering on Snart's part that Jax didn't even realize he did until the girl was an excited whorl of happiness between two proud classmates.

Snart might be strict and intimidating, but damn does he know what he's doing.

Right at 2:45, Snart tells them he'll see everyone tomorrow and immediately turns to his desk. The students, still a bit anxious by the sheer presence Dr. Snart brings out, keep sneaking looks his way as if he's going to suddenly smack them with a ruler and have them sit back down. But he doesn't, and they escape.

Jax might've been nearest to the door, but the other eight balls of anxiety pushed ahead of him. Yet before Jax can catch the door, Snart calls his name.

Heart pounding, Jax cautiously approaches. Snart turns from the thick book of music in his hands to look at him. Standing even closer, he looms twice as large.

Jax doesn't scare easy, but. Well.

"Yes, sir?" he says.

Dr. Snart closes the music. "Stein told me you were a football player before this, but an injury forced you to give it up."

"Yes, sir. Torn ACL."

Snart nods. "But as a result, you know commitment, honesty, and teamwork. Despite your uncertainty today, Jax, you did better than you thought. And you showed that honesty."

To Jax's surprise, Snart holds out his hand.

"I look forward to being your new coach."

Jax shakes his hand and, for some reason, feels a little teary-eyed all of a sudden.

"Thank you, sir."

Snart nods. "Now I'm sure you have places to be."

"Ah, yeah. I got a lit theory class with a Professor Rory at 3. Don't wanna be late."

Dr. Snart's smirk is wide and devious. Reminds Jax of the criminal supervillains in the old cartoons.

"Good luck with him," Snart says, "I hear he's a real hothead."

Great. A cold professor and a hothead professor.

Jax leaves the classroom with a smile. For the first time since the football field, he knows he can handle what comes next.

**Author's Note:**

> I made some headcanons about Professor Pyro, and since this is a college au, I figured why tf not? ;)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
